Happy
by MissSnarkling
Summary: So we had a long, and I mean LONG talk about things, and we came to a sort of silent agreement after all that talking: We hated each other. On Hiatus.
1. A Little Information

**Author's Note: Well, okay, this was just gonna be a short one-sided Steve/Pony fic,**_ kinda_** inspired by the song, "Blame It On The Rain" by He Is We. I say kinda because no one but me will see the correlation. I'm weird. I mean, "Summerboy" by Lady GaGa makes me think of Kyman, so...**

**ANYWHORE, it spiraled outta control. It's a one-shot, but, I think if people like it and review about wanting it, I can make more chapters. It's kinda appealing to me, since Steve/Pony is my favorite pairing out of everything. So yeah, there ya go. That's my story and Imma stickin' to it. Hey, you just read this, and this is crazy, but I'm a newbie, so review this, maybe? (WTF is wrong with me?)**

I stared off into space, washing the counter of the DX. Well, I should probably use the term 'washing' lightly. I was actually just moving the washcloth in a circular motion in the same spot. I'd been doing that for about twenty minutes now.

I wasn't myself. I mean, how could I be? I hadn't slept in about two days. I'd blown off Soda at least seven times to do absolutely _nothing _but stay at home, thinking. I knew he was mad at me. Everyone is, I'm not the kind of guy who people really dig. I'm obnoxious for starters, but I'd rather not go down that road. Evie dumped me, said she was tired of being with a guy who didn't care about her.

And I'm okay with that. Sure, at the time I was mad as hell, and I cussed her out pretty good. But she was only saying what was true. I didn't care about her. And I don't care about her. I only really care about one person: Myself. And lately, it seems like I don't care about myself either.

And then there's Ponyboy.

What does that bratty, whiny, stupid little tag-a-long kid have to do with anything? Oh, buddy, he has everything to do with my problem.

How good are you at keeping your secrets from your friends? In my gang, there are no secrets. It's basically seven brothers living in the same house with no parental supervision.

No, I guess that isn't true. Darry is twenty, isn't he? But if he's in a good mood-which is rare as- he's just as immature as the rest of us. And we're all pretty close considering we're all each other has. Some of us happen to be closer than other, like with me and Soda, or Pony and Johnny. Course, the Windrixville incident made everyone closer than ever, to the point now Dallas is even a more social and (dare I say it) caring guy.

But I got pushed away. No one talks about it, really, but surely they all notice. I hardly come around anymore. Why? Well, I guess there're a few reasons for that.

The most prominent being Soda and I just don't dig each other much anymore. I guess it started during that week. Soda was so distraught, he went off on everyone, and if you yelled right back, be ready for the water works.

I'm a shitty best friend. I know that. I should have been more considerate. Sodapop's baby brother had just run away, and no one really understood what had happened. But he was gone, and so was Johnny and Dallas wouldn't tell no one nothing about it, even though everyone knew that he knew everything. And Soda was worried sick over it. But I had my own problems to sort out. I had begun to think things about that stupid kid… and I wished he would just disappear so I wouldn't have to think about him anymore.

And my wish came true. He was gone. But I still couldn't get him out of my head. And it drove me insane. Soda would go on and on about the kid, and all I could do was feel just as depressed. I snapped. I told him enough was enough, and the kid would come crawling back-like always-to come and fuck up everything as usual.

I was angry, okay? I was tired of feeling like a freak for thinking about my best friend's kid brother in that kind of way. Not only because he was _my best friend's kid brother, _but because Hello! BROTHER? As in, boy?

I remember the way Soda had glared at me; I'd never seen him filled with so much intense hatred. All the anger I'd ever seen him possess, be it in rumbles, dealing with socs, whatever, was all directed at me. And in that very moment, I was no longer Sodapop's best buddy: I was his worst enemy.

We didn't talk much after that. I spent more time hanging with Two-Bit. He was freaking out over Johnny and Pony, too, but it wasn't all he ever talked about. When the kid came back safely, everything was okay again. I gave a half assed apology to Soda, and he accepted it…

But things didn't go back to normal. We started playing tug of war over Two-Bit. Neither of us realized we were doing it. And Two-Bit was kinda amused by it at first. We had drifted apart, and we were trying to find someone new to fill the void. And we naturally wanted to stick to what we knew. After a while, Two-Bit got bored with it, claimed Darry as his best friend, and that was that. Dallas was always kind of unapproachable, so we left him to his own devices.

This left us each other.

So we had a long, and I mean _long_ talk about things, and we came to a sort of silent agreement after all that talking: We hated each other, but we were all we had in terms of friends. And since I'm not one to keep my feelings a secret, I stopped coming around. I didn't have to be around Soda, or his brother who was becoming more and more attractive.

Which brings us to right now, me standing, staring off into space, 'washing' the DX countertop.

"Steve?" I looked up, shocked by the noise filling my empty silence. Soda was looking at me funny, trying to determine what to make of me. "Are you okay?"

Soda didn't give a damn if I was about to pass out or puke, or whatever. He just wanted to know if he would need to call Darry for a ride home, seeing as I drove us to work today.

I looked down at the counter. God, it was filthy. I began actually trying to clean it, ignoring his question.

Sometimes, I'd wonder if he missed us being best friends. He'd start to fall back into our old pattern, but I denied it, and he'd get bitchy and wouldn't speak to me for several days.

I missed him. But I couldn't risk growing attached again. If I did, not only would I be around Ponyboy again, but I'd feel obligated to care again. And caring leads to trust, leads to honesty, leads to secrets…

I had to protect myself. There was just no other way.


	2. Dissecting Steve's Thoughts

**Author's Note: My, my, what is _THIS_ train wreck of a chapter 2? Why, it is the result of so many reviews, that I just about died of happiness. This is disgustingly awful, as the whole time I wrote this, I just couldn't get into character. My friends always compare me to Steve, so naturally with him being my favorite i like to write about him and kinda bring to life his thoughts mixed with my own. But this... This is shit, right here. I didn't sleep last night, so I was seriously spacing out the whole time I wrote this... and yeah. It was meant to clarify stuff, but it doesn't. I think it just makes things so much more confusing. And unbelievable. And stupid as fuck. So, as God-awful as this is, I'm proud of it. I'm keeping it. Sorry I couldn't make a better, clearer chapter but... I am new to this whole thing. Jesus, mini-rant over. Reader beware: This sucks serious balls.**

Mechanically, I tapped Soda on his shoulder. He was working on a car, but didn't seem all that into it. Briefly, I wondered what was on my mind, but brushed the curiosity away. He looked over, the ghost of a smile on his lips, but it left as soon as it had come, and honestly, I'm almost certain I'd imagined it. "What?" he asked me in a somewhat femininely demanding tone. I rolled my eyes, something I'd really gotten into the habit of doing.

"Well, if you want to walk home, then fine," I responded, shrugging. I turned to walk away, and in my head began counting. _1, 2, 3…_

"Wait!" like clockwork. I heard Sodapop throw whatever tool he'd been using on the ground to catch up the few paces I'd walked. I faced him, and he looked down, ashamed at needing me to provide him transportation. "I'm sorry," he mumbled.

I scoffed. "No you ain't," I began heading towards the door. Soda hesitated only slightly, and then he followed like a puppy. Honestly, it was sickening. I got in the driver's side and put my seat belt on, sighing as I waited for him to do the same. Gosh almighty, who took this long to-

I looked over at the sound of sniffling, and instantly was met with several different conflicting emotions and thoughts: Well, Crybaby Sodapop is crying again, wonder what about this time?

He's crying, why is he crying? Did I say something? Oh God, he's crying, Jesus.

That boy is way too _sensitive! _I mean, honestly, I look over and suddenly tears galore.

"Cut that out," I huffed, annoyed. He half glared at me, and I could tell he was making and honest attempt to stop. "What's a matter with you?" He sniffled more, and wiped his nose on his sleeve. My only thought was, _EW…_

"I want to be best friends again, Steve," he stated through the sobbing. I couldn't help but think, gee, that's lovely, but maybe we shoulda thought about that about two, maybe three months ago…? You know before we decided we hated each other.

We hated each other.

"What?" I asked, not even knowing how to comprehend this. All I wanted to do was get wasted. And now, I had to tend to my ex best friend's moodiness. He gave me an expectant look, like I was supposed to just agree and suddenly everything would be okay again.

If I'm telling the truth, I wanted to. I wanted to just smile and laugh and hang out with my best buddy again. And I wanted to see the gang, too. I didn't only miss Sodapop and his totally happy and optimistic views on life, I also missed Two-Bit's fucked up sense of humor, and Dallas's stories. I wanted to listen to Darry yell at us for being stupid, and I wanted to watch Johnny's eyes light up when his hero talked to him like he was the only living being on the planet-or at least the only one who mattered.

But mostly, I wanted to see Ponyboy. I missed that stupid tag-a-long kid, and the well-toned, sexy man he had been turning into. And it was because of that last thing I wanted that I couldn't have the rest.

"Steve, I forgive you for what you said about Ponyboy. I was, well, frankly I was just being a whiny bitch and you were always around, so I vented. And you always speak your mind, it's one of the things I admire about you…" Soda had calmed down and started rambling on, I guess trying to persuade me, but I just shook my head through the whole thing.

"No, Soda! You don't get it!" I said, slamming my fist against the steering wheel. He shut up real quick and jumped, staring at me contemptuously. "We can't be best friends! We just aren't made for each other. It was fun at first, but…"

"Steve, you're such a dumbass," he growled, clicking his seat belt. This was an argument for another time. I rolled my eyes again and started up the vehicle.

"_Steve, I'm bored." Soda whined. I looked over at him. He was lying on his stomach, flipping through a comic book, and I was changing shirts._

"_Shut up, will ya? We'll be at the race soon enough. And for Fuck's sake, get up. You're not three." I laughed. He stuck his tongue out at me and rolled onto his back. _

"_The floor is nice though," he commented. "You can see things from a new perspective. Like look at that!" Soda pointed at something under my bed. "I can see where Two-Bit tried out his switch for the first time on your mattress._

_I rolled my eyes and flopped down next to him to see. "He didn't do _that_ again, did he?" I remarked, remembering that little incident._

"_And that's why you're my best buddy, Steve," Soda chuckled. "You're not afraid to fight for what you… uh, care about."_

_I let that sink in for a second. "Yeah? If that's the only reason, then I don't see how our friendship has lasted this long."_

Before I'd realized it, I had stopped in front of the Curtis house. Soda slammed his side door shut and stalked towards his home. Momentarily, he paused, and then turned back around and got up to my window. He leant down to talk to me. He spoke in a soft, child-like voice, a voice not unlike the kind a kid would use right after being scolded. "You can come in, Steve,"

I looked at the door handle, which my hand had found its way to without my having intentionally moved it there. I removed it, setting both hands at a knuckle-whitening grip on the steering wheel. I faced forward, dead set on speeding outta there and hitting up some parties.

Soda bit his lip and switched his weight from evenly balanced to one side, so he was kinda leaning to the left. "The guys… they miss you…" he said. "I miss you," he whispered.

No, no, no, no, no. Don't guilt trip me, I thought. If it hasn't worked thus far, why would today be any different? It was still the same old usual day: Soda went through fifty different emotions and I faced the brunt of all of 'em. Only difference is I didn't have to listen to him complain.

It was so stupid! If someone were to walk up and ask either of us who our best friend was, we'd say each other. But we never talked, hung out, did anything but fight about how we hated each other and how Soda missed the old days and him trying to probe my brain as to why the Curtis Charm wasn't working on me.

Why would I, Steve Randle, refuse the friendship of the beautiful and congenial Sodapop Curtis?

He wasn't just good with girls, he was a cool guy. He wasn't real annoying, and he would befriend just about anybody, he COULD befriend just about anybody. I mean, look at me. He was my only real friend after all. The gang all but forgot about me when I stopped being around Soda. He was lying, they didn't miss me, and they didn't care. He wanted to prove something to himself maybe. That he could have anyone he wanted as a friend, and he wanted me. He needed me, which, let's be honest, I needed him too.

But this was easier, this was better. Severing the friendship on my own terms. Not on the terms that would occur if we started talking again. We were hurting, I was just about dying. My support system, gone. But I knew I could do it, I had gone this far after all.

But it was like being sick, if you're around the virus 24/7, no amount of medicine is going to make it go away. Soda wouldn't go away unless I cut off full contact.

I sucked my teeth and started rolling up my window. Soda took the hint and walked away, towards the house I had once been so familiar with. I sped down the street, no exact destination in mind. I ended up at my house, and luckily my old man wasn't home.

I sauntered in, dropping my keys on the kitchen table and heading straight for my room. I plopped onto my bed and stared at the ceiling. I remember I sat lay there for at least an hour, just replaying different scenarios in my head, all of them about how I wish things would go for me.

I wished more than anything to go back to when I first fucked everything up. I wanted to apologize to Soda, right there on the spot. He'd lost his brother, a friend, and his girlfriend all in the same week. He was a wreck, and I just told him to quit bitching and move on. I'd said that he needed to forget about his brother, but that was easier said than done, and I of all people shoulda known that. I was too busy coverin' my tracks, making sure he didn't figure out that I was lusting over his baby brother.

I was so tired of keeping a secret that was eating me alive. I didn't want him to know because I wanted to stay friends. But that couldn't happen. We couldn't stay friends without me telling him out of guilt or obligation. And then I'd lose him. But I had already lost him, without ever letting it slip that I may have fancied Ponyboy more than I let on. So then, what was the point?

What was the point in any of this nonsense?

"That's it," I snapped, sitting up. I couldn't take it. We didn't hate each other. We couldn't if we tried. He was my best friend, and I'd be damned if I didn't talk to him about this. I had to talk to him. It was now the only thing I cared about: telling Soda that I had a crush on his brother.


	3. A Visit to TwoBit

**Author's Note: Here it is my lovelies! Chapter 3 of my very inappropriately name Steve story, "Happy"! Finally, some characters besides Soda, Steve, and Two-Bit! I don't know how old Two-Bit's sister is, so I made her kinda young because, well, because I can.**

**Maybe now I can write something un-Outsiders related! Like... Dan Vs, maybe? Only time will tell. Lemme explain something: I write these stories as I go along. I have in my head the basic outline, and some details and such are written in my notebook, but I write all this on my parent's laptop. So... I hope you guys get what I'm sayin'. Reviews keep me going, they brighten up my day. :)**

**Just realized I didn't say this, at least a week has passed since he decided to talk to Soda. Ugh, I'm a fail, I know.**

I was at Two-Bit's house before I realized it. It's just; I needed someone to talk to who would help me address the idea of telling Soda my darkest secret. I couldn't very well tell Darrel, and Johnny would more than likely run to Pony. That is, if he didn't go straight to Dallas with the gossip, and the blonde boy was definitely a no-no. Yes, Two-Bit was just as protective as the rest of them, but he seemed like he'd be the only one I could trust in the situation.

Normally, I would have barged in. But I hadn't visited in such a long time, and I didn't want to frighten his little sister should she be home. I knocked on the door and breathed out loudly through my mouth. I kept trying to compose myself, figure out what in the fuck I was going to say, but it all came out jumbled in my mind. The door opened, and Two-Bit's mom stood, hand in hand with Two-Bit's little sister Marcy.

"Steve? What a pleasant surprise. Two-Bit is out right now, would you like to come in?" she asked, moving over slightly to reveal the house through the doorway. Two-Bit's mom was an odd woman. She wasn't as cool as Soda's mom had been, but she still knew the score. I nodded.

"Yeah, uh, okay," I said stupidly, not really sure what to do. She smiled and began walking away, so I followed the girls in and shut the door behind me. We walked into the cramped yellow kitchen with peeling wallpaper and the scent of burnt food. She helped Marcy onto a chair and asked me to sit down next to the six year old.

"So Steve," she began, her tired eyes drooping with vague interest, "What you been up to?" She pulled out a cigarette and lit up, but when she offered me one I politely declined. I couldn't stand smoking in front of little kids.

"I uh, just, you know, been hangin'," I said, tipping forwards and back in the kitchen chair. She nodded and mumbled something that sounded like, ''s that so?'

She looked at the clock and swore. Then she quickly recovered and gave me a sympathetic look. "Steve, Two-Bit was supposed to be home and hour ago, and I have to go to work. I hate to do this, but could you watch Marcy? She'll behave… won't you Marcy?"

The little one looked up and nodded. "I'll be good," she promised. I didn't care. I was away from my house, and without the risk of seeing anyone I didn't intentionally want to see.

"Thank you dear," she said before I'd delivered my final answer. She was soon out of the house, and I felt incredibly uneasy.

The next 22 minutes were the most uncomfortable of my whole life. I don't know how, but I'd managed to tell little Marcy the whole story, and she handled it pretty well.

"Why don't you just go talk to him?" she asked, making her Barbie doll walk up to the Ken doll I had seated in a Barbie Beach Car. I sighed and adjusted Ken's scarf. Why a beach doll would be wearing a scarf is beyond me. But all my attempts to remove it had been met with, "Nooooooo!"'s each and every time, and finally I just gave up on it.

"Well, I don't wanna fuck up and make everyone hate me," I confided. She set down her Barbie and looked me right in the eye.

"You mean like Two-Bit?"

"Yeah, like Two-Bit," I said. She stood up and attacked me in a soul crushingly tight hug.

"Two-Bit won't hate you. You're the bestest guy ever. He'll love you, just like, Pony and Soda. And me." She said, kissing my cheek.

I ruffled her strawberry blonde ringlets. "Thanks kid," I said. She smiled.

"Steve, when I grow up, if you don't marry Pony, you'll marry me right?" Marcy asked in that sweet childish voice that only a kid so innocent and young could possess. I felt my heart sink at the question.

"Well-"

The door burst open and a very pissed off Two-Bit walked in muttering something about throwing a dictionary at a person's face.

"Two-Bit!" Marcy cried, running over to her older brother. He looked happy to see her, but his cheeriness faltered.

"Did Mum leave for work already?" he asked, guilt clearly written on his face. He suddenly noticed me. "Steve! What are… hi,"

I chuckled at the awkwardness of the situation and stood up off the floor, stretching. "Nice to see you, too,"

"No," Two-Bit stuttered. "I just, I mean it is great to see you but what are y'all doing here?" I looked at him strangely. Why was he acting so nervous, like I was a ticking time bomb? I brushed it off and moved him aside. I was almost to the door when Marcy piped up.

"Steve is gonna marry Ponyboy. But if he don't he's gonna marry me!" she squealed in delight, clapping her chubby little hands together. I turned to face him and gave me a glare that said Should-I-Kill-You-Now-Or-Later?

I rushed over, setting my hands on either of his upper arms. "Two-Bit, I really can explain," I promised quickly. He looked me over, and I assumed he was thinking about the pros and cons of hearing me out or whooping my sorry ass.

"Oh, buddy, this had better be good," he said dragging me into his room. I sat on his bed and he sat next to me, leaning back on his elbows while I was hunched over my knees feeling like I was going to die. I was just telling Two-Bit, imagine telling Sodapop.

We were quiet for a good three minutes before one of us finally got the balls to speak. Two-Bit began in a slow and measured voice. "Sodapop is falling apart, man. He needs you. I don't know how to explain it. It's like this, you dig? He's the pretty boy who wears his heart out on his sleeve, and you… I don't know. You're the tough guy who hates the world except for Soda. And now… now." Two-Bit waved it off. "Now you hate him, too."

I processed that, trying to picture Sodapop. I imagined him sitting, staring at out the window, plastering on a fake smile, because dammit the gang didn't care about feelings. The gang needed Soda, and Soda was gonna be there. But the enthusiasm, his spark, charm, what made the whole gang so damn giddy and high was gone. The constant bubble of heartwarming joy that eliminated the pain and angst surrounding the Greasers had dissolved-no-popped. All because Steve was gone.

Maybe Steve was overreacting. Imagining too wildly. No, at most, maybe Soda smiled less, talked less, was less Soda and more anti-social. But even that seemed to be an impossibility in his book. The calculations didn't add up. Steve was a smart kid, and he loved math. He was great at it. And this was a problem that his Algebra teacher in ninth grade would have told him had no solution. It couldn't work out.

"He, he went out drinking, Steve," Two-Bit said, laughing at absolutely nothing funny. His eyes didn't twinkle with humor, but rather depression. "He came home shit-faced as I've ever seen anyone. He came in the door and we all, we all just sat there and watched him stumble around. Steve, it was just, it…" he trailed off and took a couple deep breaths. His breathing had become unsteady, and so had mine. Soda didn't drink. He never drank. Not a drop, he was straight-edge. "It just wasn't Sodapop. He isn't the same without you, Steve."

I made a face. Two-Bit took this as a sign to continue. He laid flat on his back and stared at the ceiling so intensely, but his eyes were glazed over. "We all used to joke that you two was joined at the hip, that nothing could separate you guys. And it was good, because without sensitive Soda, you'd become Dallas Winston. But we all see now… you were _his_ morality pet. You were the one right there through it all telling him it was gonna be all right. You two was joined at the hip… what changed, man? What changed?"

"Fuck, man, I don't know? Okay?" I snapped. I couldn't handle any more of the idiot's rambling. "It's all Ponyboy's fault, okay? He- don't fucking give me that look, listen, alright? He had to grow the fuck up, and I…" I took a deep breath. "I think Ponyboy is really freaking hot. And so I had to cut off all ties, or I'd do something stupid. I value my friendships too much…"

Two-Bit thought about this, and I absently bit my lip, making it bleed in the process. "You gotta tell Sodapop,"

"I know." I sighed. "But in a way, I would feel stupid. If I had told him earlier, I wouldn't be walking on such thin ice. Now I gotta look at so many different factors, figure out an escape plan to Mexico…"

"Yeah, and you have to get around Dallas," Two-Bit said, nodding his head solemnly. I have to be honest, he was taking this all really well.

"Yeah, and Darry, and Soda won't be no picnic either-"

"Steve," Two-Bit pulled me away from my thoughts. He was facing me, an arm resting supportively on my shoulders. "Dallas is the one you really got to watch out for."

Finally, I figured there was something, taunting me, teasing me, hiding just below the surface of his sentence. But no matter how I tried, I couldn't grasp the meaning. Luckily, or unluckily in my case, he was kind enough to spell it out for me.

"Dallas and Ponyboy are kinda… together."

**Author's Note (2.0): Dun, Dun, DUNN! Reviews? I like to hear what you guys think, even if you just wanna tell me you hate me. *Sniff* I understand...**


	4. Kiss and Make Up

**Author's Note: Woo! I'm freakin' PROUD of this chapter. Why? Pfft, fuck if I know. But in my opinion, it's the best yet. To me. But, I get it if y'all think it blows dogs for quarters and you just wanna gauge your eyes out (which I don't normally recommend, except in the case of my writing. Just be forewarned that eyes or no eyes, you can never unread this.) Um, yeah. Ponyboy is in this chapter. Finally, amirigh'? Yeah, no. Here you go, guys! Reviews? Please? And also, to anyone I killed with my cliffhanger, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to do that!**

I didn't listen when Two-Bit told me to stay. I didn't care. I couldn't listen. Dallas. Ponyboy. Together. No, no, no, no, no, I didn't hear that. Two-Bit lied. It's not true. It just can't be. I left, slamming the door behind myself.

Okay, I thought to myself, what do I do now? Of course the only thing I could do, I kept putting off. _Tell Soda._ _Thanks Brain, you're so clever. Really helping me in my time of need, there._

I looked around. I was standing in the middle of the street. I quickly stepped onto the nearest sidewalk and began wracking my brain to figure out where Soda would be. The DX. He has work today doesn't he? I practically sprinted towards our workplace. When I reached the gas station, sweaty and out of breath, I paused. How should I say it? What should I do?

My thoughts were interrupted by Soda opening the door and tilting his head in confusion. He had a cut on his cheek and a tiny scratch across his forehead. "Steve? Are you working today?"

I opened and closed my mouth for about three seconds before I decided on how to answer. I shoved him backwards, and I let the door swing closed behind me. "No, we need to talk," I managed to reply as I forced him through the gas station into the back. There were no customers, but frankly I didn't give a fuck if there were any or not. When the door was safely locked, I stopped and began thinking about what to say.

"The hell, man?" Sodapop punched me in the arm a little harder than I was used to. Well, I did have it coming. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. Crossing his arms, he waved one in a sort of get-to-it motion and I nodded stiffly.

"Right," I took a few calming breaths. "I want to be best friends again."

Soda perked up at that. "Really?" he looked perplexed, and added a bit skeptically, "What makes you think I wanna be friends again? You're one of the biggest assholes I've ever met, and I'm perfectly fine without you,"

I couldn't help grinning at that lie. "Bull. You miss me." I pointed a finger at him, accusingly. He began glaring at a poster nearby, but this time he didn't deny it. "Let's be honest, no one can put up with us like we can for each other. We fall apart, because we're each other's missing half. Don't look at me like that, y'all know I don't mean in a romantical way, neither." He chuckled and stopped glowering at the poster in favor of facing me, a large beam written across his face.

"So, c'mon, you know this ain't me. I don't do that apologizin' crap. So… are we cool?" I asked hopefully. He nodded eagerly, sticking his hand out for me to shake. I took it happily, pulling him into a one arm hug. When the mushy moment had passed, Soda pulled away.

"So, that it?" he looked concerned. For a second, I let my eyes travel the length of the cut across his cheek.

"No, there's more. But I just got you back, I don't wanna lose you again," I informed him as I opened the door. He stood at the counter, and I went around to the front of it. The boss is real picky about that. He doesn't care if you work there or not, if it isn't your shift, you aren't allowed by the register.

"Steve, one could argue that communication is the reason we got into this mess." Soda passed me a coke, and I shrugged, popping the cap off easily and chugging half of it. I was so relieved that the tension between us was gone. And so quickly at that! I know of a few girls I used to go with who wouldn't talk to each other for years, and when they finally did apologize to each other, they didn't become friends again for several more. We apologized and made up in roughly five minutes. Maybe it's a guy thing. Or maybe it's just our thing. Granted, we weren't ever really that mad, and we had been not friends for quite a while.

"Shoot, Soda, miscommunication and your baby brother," I couldn't help saying. He frowned a little, but tried not to show how that made him feel. _And it would be the same thing this time, too: miscommunication and your baby brother…_

"What about me?"

The voice stopped me in my tracks and I started choking on my drink. I refused to turn around, refused to face that stupid bratty tag-a-long kid that was surely going to cost me everything.

Turns out I didn't have to, because he came right around to my left and stood right next to me, so close our shoulders touched.

"Hey, Pony!" Sodapop leaned over to mess up his brother's hair. It was black. I couldn't help it now, his hair was _black._ When did it become black? He changed it. I had only seen his hair, the tip of the iceberg. But now I needed more. What else had changed, what else was different about him? I only knew the small part, the part that certainly wouldn't be threatening to every other normal person. But I felt compelled to look. But I couldn't look; I didn't want to see more. If I saw more… what if more was enough to make me sink? What if looking at Ponyboy made me lose it?

I looked. And I wish I hadn't.

His hair, yes it was long and black, greased back in a typical hood kind of way. His skin was pale for the most part, but slightly sun kissed on his neck, possibly from excessively slouching over. This is my guess from what I could see of his skin, which wasn't a whole lot. He had on a black leather jacket, a size or two too big. My stomach flipped when I realized who it was he could have gotten that jacket from. He had on tight dark blue jeans that made my mind wander places it should not have been going, and I retracted my eyes to look back at that stupid jacket when a glint of silver around his neck caught my attention.

I scowled at Dallas's chain and ring around his neck. It had absolutely no right being there. But this gave me another thought, just how open were Dallas and Ponyboy? Guys didn't wear other guys' rings around their necks…

"Excuse me?" a little girl interrupted my thoughts when she got Soda's attention. Soda smiled his usual carefree grin and followed her outside.

"Fuck's your problem?" Ponyboy snapped at me. I wasn't sure what shocked me most, him talking to me, his new vocabulary (wonder where he got _that _from…), or both together.

"What?" I couldn't think of anything real bright to say, I was too lost in my own thoughts.

"You were staring at me like nobody's business. What's your deal, this?" he asked, holding up the ring. I didn't answer and he dropped it back onto his chest. "Homophobe or somethin' Randle? Back the fuck off." He snarled.

"Listen kid, I don't give a fuck, I'll kick your ass, you keep talkin' to me like that though." I growled at him, instinct taking over.

He sneered before shoving me roughly and heading for the door, flipping me off. He opened the door, but hung in the doorway for a minute. "I'd like to see you try to get through Dallas." He pulled back the collar of the jacket to reveal a huge hickey. "He won't let you five miles near me," he walked out, the door shutting with a little _cling!_ from the bell at the top.

Anger pulsed through my body. I felt the intense urge to do something really, _really _reckless. Soda walked back in. "Pony leave?" he asked, going back behind the counter and putting money in the register. I nodded.

"Sodapop, you drink?" I inquired. He bit his lip and looked off to the side, blushing. "Get Two-Bit after work, I wanna go to a party," he nodded slowly, and I could tell he was already dreading the decision. "Later, buddy."

"Bye, Steve." He whispered, eyes darkened and staring at the counter, much the same way I had once before him.

**Author's Note (2.0): Sorry, but my grammar, spelling, and what-not are awful. Review!**


	5. Just Wanna Be Loved

**Author's Note: I believe this is the longest and arguably most important chapter so far. Lotsa stuff happens here. Eh, not really. But... here you go! warning: (and especially my sister should read this warning) semi graphic stuff happens. I'm switching the rating to M just to be safe, but... whatever. Review please!**

I had quite some time to kill before Soda would be off from work. I wandered aimlessly around town for awhile, but I had nothing particular to do in mind, so that got boring pretty fast. I decided that I could go to the Curtis house. Soda and me were friends again, so I couldn't see any reason as to why I wouldn't be allowed to hang out there.

I walked in, and Dallas was laying there on the couch, Johnny sat on the floor next to him. They looked over at me, confusion clear on their faces.

"What are you doing here, Randle?" Dallas growled, leaning up on his elbows. I shrugged and walked over to the armchair, sitting quickly and propping my feet up on the coffee table.

"Waitin' on Two-bit and Soda. We're headin' to buck's later, probably." He was biting his tongue, I could tell. After a few seconds of silence he spoke again.

"You know what? You caused Soda a lot of trouble."

"Nope, he did that to himself." I responded. In a flash, Dally was up and holding me by my shirt collar, standing me up on my tip-toes as he hissed in my face.

"No wonder Pony was moody earlier. Shoulda known you were gonna show up. I ought to pound your face in, right here right now." Dallas sneered. Out of all our gang, Dally and I never could get along. Sure, I fought with Pony. But never physically, and never in front of anybody. But Dallas and I were different. We wouldn't deal with someone if they made us mad, so that means we tended to settle our disputes with our fists. Course I knew I was no match for him, and the only real reason I'm still breathing after our fights is because I'm part of the gang, and he can barely, _just barely, _contain himself.

"I ain't done nothin', Dally, and y'all know that. Not my fault if your _girlfriend _is PMSing." I snorted, and the anger in his eyes made me want to laugh… partially in hysterical fear, and partially with pride in being able to push his buttons so easily.

He pulled his fist back, but Johnny's soft voice spoke up. "C'mon, Dal, lay off."

Dallas shoved me roughly back onto the chair and glared steadily at the small tanned boy. "Obviously if Steve's going out with them tonight, they made up. Soda would be upset if you hurt Steve, and how would Pony feel if you somehow, even indirectly, hurt Soda?" Johnny looked at me, nodded slightly and looked back up at his hero. He winced as he said the next sentence. "He wouldn't be in the mood to… you know…" he gagged slightly.

Dallas nodded understandingly. He cast me one more pissed off look before trudging out the door, slamming it so hard it flew back open.

Johnny sighed, standing up and going to shut the front door, much gentler than dally had. "So Johnny, how you been?" I asked sociably.

"I've been better. I hate having to be reining in Dally all the time. I just don't want pony to get hurt." He responded, sitting on the couch and facing me. I nodded, but couldn't think of anything else to say.

"You made up with Soda." He stated. I nodded again.

"I missed the gang." I replied. He quirked his lip, probably wanting to say something, but was pushing the urge away. "What? Tell me," I persuaded. He looked away shyly. He mumbled something, but I couldn't hear him. "What was that, speak up, Johnnycakes."

"You missed Ponyboy." He whispered. He said it confidently, but quietly. There wasn't a lick of doubt in that small sentence, and I found myself once again nodding in agreement. It's not like he needed me to confirm it, he saw more than most people. So now two people knew, three if you counted Two-Bit's sister. That was way more people than I wanted to know.

It was quiet again, and I knew that was as much as Johnny was going to say. I sighed and decided there was nothing more to do.

I spent the rest of the day hanging around with the Brumly boys up until it was about seven. Then I headed over to the Curtis residence again where Two-Bit and Soda was wrestling outside.

"Ready to go?" I asked as I walked up. Two-Bit bounced up like a rubber ball.

"Quite," he said in a phony accent. He helped Soda stand and the three of us climbed into Two-Bit's truck. We joked around and acted like the stupid teens we were as we neared Buck's place. Despite how relatively early it was, Hank Williams was blasting and the place was swinging.

"Oh, boy, I'm about to get smashed!" Two-Bit laughed and practically jumped out of the vehicle with the engine still rumbling.

Soda giggled nervously and leaned over to switch the truck off. "Here we go," he said with mock enthusiasm. We hurried into the party and were instantly swarmed with people. It wasn't hard for me to get into the groove of things, but I tried to keep an eye on Soda. He was freaking out whenever someone _looked _at him, and I realized easily that he had replaced the alcohol in his cup with water.

I searched around for Two-Bit, and found him swapping spit with some scantily dressed bimbo with blonde hair and black roots. I weaved through the crowd and finally managed to reach Soda.

"Steve! I uh, I'm ready to go, so…" he started, but I held up my hand.

"It's a party Soda, chill out. Here" I gave him my drink, which had just been topped off.

"Uh, no, I'm still drinking mine-"

"I know its water, man, just take mine." I couldn't help smirking when he made a face at the taste. But he started chugging it and then handed me the empty cup.

"There, I'm done now. Can we go?" he asked hopefully, his voice a bit annoyed. I shook my head.

"No, we just got here a little under an hour ago. I'll get us a refill. C'mon." I grabbed his wrist and led him over to the bar. I retrieved our beers and handed him his. We drank as we observed the party goers. That was one of our favorite things to do, just look at the people who had shown up. We saw Tim over in the corner playing poker with his sister, and we spotted a few of Darry's old friends. I briefly wondered why such high class Socs would be here, but the thought slipped my mind as Soda snickered. I looked over to see what was so amusing and saw Two-Bit being dragged by that skank up stairs.

"She's not too bad lookin'," I commented just to be saying something. He nodded. He took a large gulp and turned around to get more.

I realized who he might have been thinking about. "I'm sorry," I mumbled. He nodded and finished off another drink. I didn't realize how much he could drink before showing signs of being drunk. That was like his tenth drink. Then again, he didn't drink enough for me to ever really know how he handled his liquor. Besides, the beer wasn't that strong anyways.

"Hey guys, my girl is back!" an ugly man with a large unruly beard walked over to Soda and kissed him on the cheek.

I leaned back in disgust. Who was this guy? Soda growled and pushed the guy off of him, but there was genuine panic in his features. The guy was obviously drunk, and he stumbled back, nearly falling. Soda was trembling a bit.

He laughed darkly, and his friends-two equally sketchy looking men-helped him up. They all took a couple steps towards Soda again, taunting him. I hopped off the barstool and stood slightly in front of my friend.

"What the hell, sicko's? Back off!" I snapped.

"What's this? Oh! You must be my lady's mistress!" he looked past me at Sodapop. "What's wrong honey? I'm not good enough for you?"

I couldn't take the way this creep was acting, so I punched him as hard as I could in the stomach, causing him to double over in pain. I grabbed Soda's arm and led him upstairs quickly, knowing that they'd immediately assume we left and start looking outside. We should leave, but I had to find Two-Bit in order to do that.

After finding Two-Bit, I realized we'd be here a while. At least, that's what his current blonde told me.

I found an empty room and let Soda sprawl out on the bed. His eyes were shining with tears, and he pulled me up to him and buried his face in my chest. I couldn't help thinking how glad I was that even though a rift had separated us, it had sealed up and disappeared nearly instantly, the proof being he wasn't afraid to bawl into my shirt front.

When he stopped crying, I lifted his head up slowly. "What did those guys want? I mean, besides, you know…" I wanted to kick myself for how stupid that question was. He sighed and began to recount the story.

"I missed Sandy so much, and I didn't want just another girlfriend. He offered to take my mind off her, and I was so desperate for love I said yes… but then when reality hit me, I told him to go away. So he did… for awhile. And someone spiked my drink and he tried to take advantage of me…" Soda started to sniffle and I could tell he was gonna cry again.

"Shh, shh, it's okay, it's gonna be okay… quit blubbering… please?" I begged. After several moments he calmed down, so I started talking. "We all just want to be loved, man. I know I miss Evie, and of course you miss Sandy. She was a great gal, but she just wasn't the right one for you."

"Steve, how can you take it? You talk like Evie meant nothing to you…" he whispered, his deep brown eyes staring meaningfully into mine. I couldn't answer him. I knew I would have to, but right now, I just couldn't tell him the truth. _Because she didn't mean anything to me. All I care about is Ponyboy…_

Soda moved closer, he was nearly on top of me, and his face was about three centimeters from mine. "Steve…" he mouthed. My breath hitched and our lips collided feverishly.

I gasped into the unexpected kiss, but I couldn't pull away. I needed this, he needed this. We both needed to feel loved. That's all this was. Partial lust and all neediness. We gave into the sensations and let instinct take over. It wasn't long before clothes were discarded and I had maneuvered to be on top. Things had heated up and in minutes we had reached our peaks, but neither one of us were calling the names we each had expected.

"Ponyboy!" I shrieked out as Soda finished as well.

"Oh, Dallas!" he shrilled excitedly.

* * *

We were sitting opposite each other in Two-Bit's car.

"That didn't happen. This night never happened." Soda said firmly, trying to allow no room for argument.

"Dallas? As in, Winston?" I scoffed. He glared daggers at me.

"My baby brother? As in, my fucking baby brother? Go fuck yourself Randle." He turned so that he was staring out the window. Two-Bit walked up, grinning crazily as he got into the driver's seat.

"To the Curtis house?" he asked. I shook my head, but knew he couldn't see me, so I simply got out and started walking towards my house.


	6. Promises

**Author's Note: Okay, so one of my lovely reviewers suggested I do a chapter in Ponyboy's POV, and that person is... WhoWantsToKnow. So here you go. :) it sucks though, and in a way it's intentional, because I wanted Pony's thoughts to kind of be all over the place and stuff. um, yeah, but this chapter does suck. But it's a nice break from always on the move angsty Steve right?**

Pony's POV

I nuzzled closer to Dallas's chest as we lay on the couch together. Darry sat in the armchair nearby, humming softly to himself while reading a paperback novel a coworker had suggested to him. It always intrigued me to watch Darry's expression when he read. He would look almost frustrated, his brows knitting together in serious thought. Dallas ran a hand through my hair, which I had washed the grease out of since I knew he hated it when we were relaxing. Suddenly, Dallas stiffened up behind me and Darry looked up quickly. I strained my ears to listen and could faintly hear talking.

Two-Bit opened the door, then moved over to the side while a fuming Sodapop stomped past and headed for the bathroom. We all watched him disappear down the hall, his location confirmed when the door slammed shut and an oddly loud click of the lock sounded. I looked over at Two-Bit, who looked at a loss of words. "Hey Muscles, can I talk to you outside?"

Darry nodded, setting his book down, not bothering to mark the page and following the younger greaser out the door, shutting it quickly behind him. I started to ease back into Dallas's chest, but he patted my shoulder and mumbled for me to move.

I stood up and let him do so as well, and he stretched his tired limbs before running a hand through his hair and sauntering over to the door. "Are you leaving?" I asked, and I guess my voice was sadder than I had intended. He paused at the door, his hand resting on the knob and turned his head slightly, casting me one of his rare, genuine smiles. I nearly gasped, but stopped myself.

"I'll be back, I just want to see what this is about." he answered before leaving. I frowned, sitting down slowly. I stared at the ground quietly for a minute, feeling the emptiness start to fill me as once again I was left alone. I could feel my stomach start to turn, my hands began to tremble and I could feel beads of sweat forming on my neck. Closing my eyes, I took a few deep breaths.

_They're just outside. Soda is in the bathroom. You aren't alone, they're here._

I moved to lie down on the couch and I curled up in a tight ball, breathing deeply. I vaguely heard Soda coming out of the bathroom, and I opened one eye, my sight made blurry by unshed tears. I hated how I couldn't control myself at times like this anymore. I tried to, but I just couldn't keep myself from falling apart. Darry told me that it will take a little time, but I'll be okay soon.

"Pony?" I heard Soda's voice and felt his touch on my leg, but I still couldn't see him. I blinked rapidly. I had to see him, I _had_ to see him. I could see Soda sitting next to me, on the far edge of the couch, and my heart stopped racing. I began to calm down, and Sodapop could tell. He made slow circles on my back with his hand, proving to me that he was real, he was here with me.

"It's okay, Ponyboy." he hummed lightly, and when I was sure that I was okay, I shoved his hand away and sat up.

"Hey," I greeted him, trying to pretend that he didn't just help me not kill myself. I felt a stinging sensation and brushed my hand on my neck. _Ah, too late._ I thought, feeling the self inflicted scratches along my throat. He nodded, leaning back and resting his arms along the couch. He still had a pissed off look to him, but I wondered if he would even tell me what was wrong. Soda and I used to be so close, now I don't think we could be further away.

Soda rolled his eyes, used to the way I had become. I remembered a conversation Darry and Soda had last week when they thought I was asleep. Darry thinks I was going through a phase, or it was just part of being a moody teenager. Soda didn't believe it, and he thought Darry should be more concerned. Concerned over what? Being tough? Darry is tough, so is Soda. They're tuff, too. I just couldn't understand why they freaked out over everything anymore. Soda also seemed to hold some kind of grudge against Dallas. I didn't know what.

"What's up?" I asked, hoping he would tell me. He shrugged before slumping back against the couch even further, as if he was trying to sink so far into the piece of furniture that he'd slip out of existence.

"Just… nothin' Pone." Soda wanted to tell me, I could see it in his eyes. But I wasn't going to push him. He probably told Two-Bit, and he doesn't keep secrets well anymore. I'd find out soon enough. I walked over to the window and looked through, seeing the three older greasers outside. I felt a frown tugging on his lips, but couldn't figure out why. I turned away quickly and cocked a hip and stood in what could only be classified as an angry housewife stance.

"C'mon, just tell me." I slightly demanded and slightly begged, forgetting that I wasn't going to force it out of him. I had decided I didn't want to wait around for Dallas. "Is it Steve's fault?" I had a feeling it was his fault, since he wasn't here with Soda. Sodapop looked at me intensely, as if he thought he could read my mind by doing so. Then he cast his eyes to the side, some what defeated. I assumed immediately that I was right.

"What did he do?" I asked curiously. My heart sped up ever so slightly, and I thought maybe it was because I was excited at the thought of Steve going away forever. Earlier in the DX appeared in front of my eyes, and I felt like I was living the moment again. Steve was staring at me, and for the life of me I could not figure out why, but automatically assumed it was Dally's chain. Steve did always give off a homophobic vibe. I couldn't quite place it.

"Just forget it Ponyboy. Ain't you supposed to be in bed anyways?" he asked, yawning and getting comfortable, lying down on the couch.

"Are you going to sleep on the couch?" I asked. He shook his head, but he sure looked like he was. "And how can I forget it?"

"You're too damn inquisitive, Pony." Soda said, and I was quiet. Several thoughts flooded my head, some of them not quite making sense, a lot of them entirely irrelevant, the most prominent being for some reason, _Where did he learn that word?_

I was finally about to retort when I heard his snore ever so softly. I scoffed and rolled my eyes. Typical Sodapop, falling asleep when you don't want him to. The door opened behind me and Dallas walked in with Darry. Outside I could hear Two-bit's car start up, so I guess he was leaving.

"Soda's sleeping in here?" Darry asked as he walked past, going to his room. I shrugged, but he obviously couldn't see me, so I said, "I guess so."

Dallas stood in front of me and moved a piece of hair behind my ear. "Two-Bit's dropping me off at Buck's." he said quietly, kissing my neck.

"I thought you said you were staying?"

"No where to sleep." he mumbled against my skin. I felt scared suddenly, and once again, my heart was racing.

"You can sleep in my bed." I offered quickly.

"Glory Ponyboy, calm down, it's just one night without me. You can go one night without me." he said, looking me in the eyes. I let out a shaky breath I hadn't realized I had been holding. "Just one night," he whispered, his New York accent coming out a bit forced. He knew that I liked it, that I wanted to go to New York.

"No," I tried to protest, he _had_ to stay. But he shook his head and then kissed me lightly on the lips for just a second.

"I'll be back in the morning, before you even wake up. I promise." he said. _Too many promises, he's gonna break them some time._ Soda's voice rang in my head. Darry and Soda talking about Dallas, how bad he was for me, how he'd end up breaking my heart.

In the middle of my thinking, Dallas left, and I was alone again.

**Author's Note (2.0): Oh, Pony, don't you know what they say about assuming things? Well, anyhow, review please! It makes me a happy person. Unlike the characters. They're all angsty. Ugh. Review! (Yay, redundancy!) And please excuse grammar, spelling, such and such.**


	7. Realizations

**Author's Note: Well, fuck. 'Nuff said? No, uh, I haven't really been... writing. I mean, I have, of course. But I keep looking over my stories and thinking to myself, "This is shit." So. My motivation to do any writing is nearly existent. I hate all my stories. And I wish I hadn't tortured everyone who ever comes across my 'work'. But. Here is another chapter of Happy. Maybe I'll update again soon. Or maybe I'll take twice as long. That doesn't seem fair to anyone, since this story sucks enough, and nothing is even happening. Oh well, I'm a bicth. Blah, blah, blah. Review and tell me how shitty this is and how you want me to die so you'll be spared? **

I woke up some time around three in the afternoon, not really sure where I was for a moment. Looking around, I came to my senses and realized I was at my house. Of course. Where else would I wind up?

I stared at the end of my bed for a few minutes, watching light filter in from the window. I could see little dust particles' floating about, because God knows no one cleans this house. My mind was being lazy, and I drifted almost dreamily from thought to thought. I thought about how my current position in life certainly wasn't what I had wanted as a child. I don't think any kid thinks to himself, "I want to be in love with my ex best friend's baby brother."

Ponyboy certainly wasn't a baby anymore. And to think, not much time had passed at all.

At that moment, mind still hazy from sleep, I decided I'd give anything to go back to the way things were. But even if I committed to going back to 'normal', things never would be. Too much had happened, especially with Soda.

I wondered about Soda for a moment, and sighed as I tried to bury thought of last night. Dallas? _Really? _I don't know that I could have ever assumed he was a fag, or thought he would ever have a thing for that hood. But, why not? Why do people fall in love, especially with people you'd never guess, and you would think would never work out?

Dallas and Ponyboy. The most fucked up couple in the entire country? I would have thought so.

And then I realized something I really should have noticed sooner, and I could have sworn loud enough to wake anyone who might possibly still be in bed. If I somehow convinced Soda to help me break up Dally and Pony, we could both get who we wanted. It was a terrible idea. There was a high chance of someone getting hurt, and something told me that someone would be me. But it was the closest thing I could think of that would kill two birds with one stone: I would inevitably win Sodapop back as a friend, and I would finally have Ponyboy.

When I reached Two-Bit's house, he didn't exactly agree with the idea.

"Worst idea ever." He said as he picked up a doll off of the floor and set it on the kitchen counter.

"How?"

"First of all, it sounds like something Marcy would think of. Actually, no. She could probably come up with something better than that." The older Greaser said, nodding towards the girl's room down the hallway. "Also, what would that solve again? You'd be ruining a relationship between two perfectly happy people, and that could sever the gang. It's broken enough." The red head said the last part quietly, almost sadly.

"Broken?" I snorted. "When were we ever fixed?"

"That's not the point. You can't just walk out of Soda's life, leave him a mess, and then come back here, fuck him, and then try to take his little brother. That's just… beyond fucked up."

I felt my heart stop for a second, and I was honestly scared for a minute. "He told you?" I looked down, avoiding his eyes, which I felt like were glaring daggers at me.

"Of course he did. Because everyone trusts me, for some reason. And I told Darry." He rolled his eyes, anticipating my reaction.

"Do you want me to get killed?" I asked, throat having gone dry as I thought about what kind of flowers I wanted at my funeral.

"Look, you brought it upon yourself. Darry's my best friend, and he's the caretaker of both Soda and Pony, so I thing he has a right to know these things. Besides, let's just pretend for a minute that you were with Ponyboy last night. That you fucked him instead. The situation wouldn't be much different would it? You'd still be in a hell of a lot of trouble with Superman."

I would, of course I would. But the situation here was worse, as Two-Bit had ever so gracefully spelled out for me. I had left Sodapop behind, and then out of nowhere I did that. Not the greatest friend in the world.

"The whole reason I acted like an ass was because of his fucking brother."

"Are you really gonna blame all this on _Ponyboy?_ He's innocent! In this subject at least…" he corrected himself. "It's not his fault that you won't grow the fuck up and tell him that you've got a crush on him, instead you have to play mind games with his brother."

"I have not been playing mind games!" I hissed, slamming my fist on the counter. "Last night was pretty mutual, if you could say that. We were drunk, I don't know… but my point is that the only thing I'm really guilty of here is being a shitty best friend."

"At least we're straight on one thing." Two-Bit muttered, heading for the front door. I turned to follow him.

"Where are you going?" I asked, annoyed. When he reached the door, he held the handle tightly and faced me.

"I'm going to get a drink. I'll be back. If you're still here, I'll know you were too much of a little bitch to man up and face your problems." Before I could respond, Two-Bit left, slamming the door shut, causing some picture frames to rattle.

"Keith?" I heard his mom call from her room. I sighed, wondering if she had just woken up, or if she had heard everything. I doubted she had, since she wasn't sure if Two-Bit had left or not. I shook my head, thinking about what to do. Should I go to the Curtis house and face all of them at once? Or wait until work when I could talk to Soda? I exited the house quietly and started heading for the race track.

**Author's Note(2.0): Yep, not long, not interesting. Not worth your time. But you read it. I feel sorry for you. Might as well review it now, hm?**


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